


Don't Stop

by CrackingLamb



Series: Just Like Fire - Prompt Fills for La'vise Lavellan [3]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Post In Your Heart Shall Burn, Pre-Relationship, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:40:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26269624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrackingLamb/pseuds/CrackingLamb
Summary: La'vise and Solas have a quiet moment on the way to Skyhold.
Relationships: Female Lavellan & Solas (Dragon Age), Female Lavellan/Solas
Series: Just Like Fire - Prompt Fills for La'vise Lavellan [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1901281
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	Don't Stop

La'vise had gotten used to walls. She realized this as the Inquisition leaders trekked up the mountain trails, a train of survivors from Haven ranged out behind them for half a mile, carrying everything they owned. The morale was fragile, including her own. They had lost everything, caught up in something much bigger than they'd anticipated, and they were now on the move to some unknown location following an elf with equally unknown magic in her hand. She understood their level of worry and distrust. And, like them, she missed the implied security of walls.

The trip took much longer with so many. La'vise had tracked and hunted and traveled with her clan her whole life, and she knew how far a well organized camp could move in a day. This was...not like that. Before they'd even set out from the cave where the town had retreated, she had a dozen strong men and women go out and fell whatever dead trees they could find, hauling the wood back and chopping it to make for more manageable transport. They needed fires, for cooking and for warmth. They needed meat, and had another scouting party hunt down several druffalo and nugs, butchering them into roasts and haunches that froze as they traveled, negating the need for more time spent smoking and preserving. She herself led those able bodied and knowledgeable to harvest elfroot, bitter winter greens and edible roots to supplement their meals.

Three days into the trip up the mountains, she emerged from her private tent – a totally unnecessary waste of space in her opinion, there were others who could use it far better – and looked around the makeshift camp to see things moving more smoothly than the previous day. She hadn't thought to be one to lead masses of humans through the wilderness, but here she was. At least in this, she knew what she was doing.

“Have you seen Solas?” she asked Leliana when she found her ladling out hot porridge from a kettle. La'vise took her own portion, letting the cold air waft the steam away before she gobbled it down.

“He went north, checking to make sure the pass is unblocked,” the Spymaster replied.

La'vise took her bowl with her and wandered away from the camp to find him. The fledgling Inquisition looked to her for leadership, but _she_ was relying on Solas's far greater familiarity with the region to get them to this place he'd spoken of. She idly scooped up the porridge, stoutly refusing to balk at its plainness, and rounded a curve in the mountain path to see Solas across the clearing, going through motions she recognized from fighting at his side. She almost turned back, letting him keep his privacy, but he spun in place and saw her. He stopped and beckoned to her.

“Good morning,” he said pleasantly as she walked to him. He was only slightly out of breath in the thinner air and she was mildly envious. She felt like she was gasping all the time between the altitude and the cold.

“Hungry?” she asked, offering the rest of her bowl. He smirked and shook his head, outright grinning as she grumbled.

“You have greater need to keep up your strength than I, my friend,” he said. “Forgive me for being away so long. I felt it prudent to enjoy some solitude while I could.”

“I can understand that. The pass is clear?”

“Yes.”

She turned to go. “I'll leave you then. Let you enjoy some quiet time.”

“Your presence is not unwelcome, lethallan,” he said before she could go two steps. She looked over her shoulder at him. He was watching her with that calm expression he usually wore, lightly tinged with wry amusement. She could never tell what that meant. “You should perhaps observe the forms in which I cast, so that you can recognize them without the pace of actual fighting behind them.”

“All right.”

He stepped away from her and resumed the graceful motions, his hands flourishing and twisting, his arms mimicking the push and pull of magic. She saw how he planted his feet, how he moved through the different stances and positions. She hadn't realized just how involved his body language was in conjunction with magic, and yet how simple it was. He seemed to need very little force behind his spells, as if it was as natural to him as breathing. Her Keeper and the First had more emphasis in their movements, like the Fade resisted their draw upon it.

“You make it look easy,” she said. He paused and a half smile lit his face. “Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt.”

“What was it that the Iron Bull said? I am not flashy or aggressive.”

“No, you're neither. But...it looks so natural. Evocative of what ancient elves might have done.” And then she blushed, _hard_. She hadn't meant to make that sound so...girlish.

“I shall take that as a compliment,” he replied, a cheekier grin appearing on his face. “Do not stop now.”

She responded by shoveling a large spoonful of cold porridge in her mouth to prevent her from needing to say anything more. He chuckled. She swallowed her lump of breakfast and cleared her throat before giving him a mocking glare. “I didn't think you would stoop so low as to need such vapid validation of your skills.”

“Perhaps not,” he agreed, still chuckling to himself. “The People of Elvhenan wove magic as their birthright. To think that some of that remains in someone like me...” He paused and looked away for a moment. Then his eyes found hers again. “It has meaning, and I thank you for saying it.”

“You're welcome,” she breathed, snared utterly by the expression on his face. The moment stretched until her spoon clattered in her bowl, and they both stepped back even though they hadn't actually been all that close. Solas seemed to gather himself up, and extended a hand back towards camp.

“We should not be away so long. Someone will worry.”

“Or Varric will begin gossiping.” She walked along beside him, letting him support her elbow in a slippery spot. He was warm, she noted. Much warmer than a brisk morning exercise should have left him. But they had reached the camp, and she didn't have an opportunity to ask him why.


End file.
